


Dark Eciture: Heritage

by Aly_H



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Gen, I hate tagging, SLIGHT mention of Fraxus, great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandpa?, heritage, origin of Freed's magic, silly head canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 12:09:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8578003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aly_H/pseuds/Aly_H
Summary: Whilst the battle against Tartaros is just getting started Freed Justine, unconscious thanks to the effects of Tempester's attack, receives an unexpected (and mildly bored) visitor to his subconscious.
---
A one-shot based on a personal head canon regarding the origin of Freed's power. Set during the Tartaros arc.





	

It was mere curiosity that drew his attention to the Fairies fluttering about his garden in their vain attempts to stop the inevitable erasure of magic. However it was not the ones fighting that held his focus but one that lay trapped in the nightmares of a fever dream. The remnants of a distant memory.

The proof that an old story, long since fallen silent on the lips of man, was not a fiction but the truth.

Tempester’s magic barrier particles were eating away at the magic that ran in his veins, leaving openings in the man’s mind for him to slip inside. He was curious and the Gates seemed to be holding their own against the human guild.

It took him a moment to direct the subconscious so that the mage was pulled from his nightmares. The room that the mind shaped itself to was sparse, a tiny bed shoved in the corner, plain walls showed the shadows of which pictures had once hung but had since been removed, the window was boarded up from the outside. The only sign that this room belonged to a child, not an adult beyond the bed’s diminutive size was that the one personal object there was a book of fairy tales laid out on the bed. Old, well worn, but well cared for. Not a single dog eared page, he noted with amusement as he lifted it to inspect it.

The mage’s awareness took a moment longer to materialize but when it did he was on alert, bright blue eyes narrowing at the intruder, a hand going instinctively to his waist where a sword should’ve been, only to brush uselessly against the tattered fabric of his crimson coat.

Behind a lock of green hair a purple light glows dangerous, the young man’s shadow on the wall was distinctly inhuman. A shadow of a demon, a creature that shifted and edged along the wall independent of the rules of light but unwilling to challenge the intruder into the place where only it and the green-haired mage were meant to be.

“You are not _my_ demon,” he observed, frowning as he took note of the way his demon – the shadow – behaved towards the man. He spared little attention towards the room they stood in. Unhappy memories that it held, the human was not keen to let his thoughts linger here.

He watched as the black haired man tilted his head to the side, dark eyes studious. It was an absent air of curiosity though – the way one might pause to contemplate what kind of bird was perched in a tree. No desire to know for sure, but observing as there was nothing better to do.

“It is almost a shame that you met Tempester and not Kyoka,” he observed, almost to himself. “I did not know any of that line remained, let alone were strong enough to master the remnants left in their blood. Will you tell Mard Geer your name?”

Eyes narrowed – so this was one of the enemies, one of the ones responsible for hurting Laxus and Evergreen and Bickslow, the ones that were hunting the Council members. There had to be a reason that he was here, and why did he know about _that_?

“Freed Justine,” he replied at last. “Who are you?”

“It is the remnants of Mard Geer’s power that are etched on your soul. A broken copy, tainted by magic and humanity,” he replied, still observing curiously. “It would seem your lineage kept her looks and my talents. To use the mere fragments of a Book the way you do is clever for a human.”

He blanched slightly – the family legend, a story about an ancestress who was loved by a demon who danced among thorns until fate had called him to his underworld throne once more. His grandmother had muttered the story to him after the power had shown itself, standing on the other side of the door that was at his back.

She’d been trying to comfort the sobbing grandchild whom she would never see again that the magic he had wasn’t a curse like his parents claimed but proof of a love from centuries before and was a blessing. He had not truly believed the claim – dismissed it until now.

 “You should free yourself from the ties that insect who pretends to be a dragon slayer has wrapped you in,” the demon’s interest had apparently abated – or been drawn elsewhere – as his form was beginning to fade. He would offer his defiant descendent this final piece of advice though: “Then perhaps you might survive what is coming.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya, thanks for reading! Let me know what ya think! ^^
> 
> So few explanations for my rather absurd reasoning with this HC:  
> \- The similarities there are in appearance between Freed's Darkness and Shadow forms and Mard Geer's Etherious form.  
> \- Freed appears to have a higher tolerance for anti-magic particles than most mages, being able to evac the team and Yajima as well as get them all the way to Fairy Tail before he looses consciousness. They still do effect him however, unlike Mira, so that means that he can't be full demon like her.  
> \- The HAIR! I mean the two of them have the prettiest hair ever! :| (I DID say the reasoning was absurd.)


End file.
